


Daisies with Crowns of Thorns

by ColdEmergency



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angst, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Harry Potter is Bad at Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Issues, Kinks, Light BDSM, M/M, Pansy Parkinson is a Good Friend, Prompt Fic, Romance, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Slash, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tom Riddle Being an Asshole, Tom Riddle is Not Voldemort, Tumblr Prompt, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:08:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColdEmergency/pseuds/ColdEmergency
Summary: All Harry Potter wanted to do was save up some money so he could move out of his shitty apartment, and maybe get a promotion. Something Harry Potter never wanted to do, was accidentally send nudes to his boss.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 48
Kudos: 349





	1. Trust

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based prompt fic from the tumblr post:
> 
> BOSS: Know why I called you in here?  
> ME: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic  
> BOSS [Stops pouring 2 glasses of wine]  
> Accidentally?

The door to his apartment burst open, and Harry almost keeled over with a heart attack.

“What up, bitch!” Pansy Parkinson shouted, letting herself in. Harry sighed out in relief and dropped his head onto the cold counter.

“You just scared the ever-living shit out of me, Pans.” He admitted. 

Ever since the lock on his door broke, he’d been so afraid of an intruder. Not that Pansy wasn’t one, but she was an intruder who also happened to be one of his best friends. 

He stood up from his position holding onto his chest, intent on finishing his dinner. He was in the middle of cutting veggies, and he thanked whoever was listening that he hadn’t cut his finger off.

“You’re so easily spooked, I could probably breathe wrong and you’d die.” She claimed, removing her large bag from her shoulder and plopping down into one of the barstools at the counter. She pulled out a compact mirror from her breast pocket and opened it to check on her makeup, _Harry knew that she was secretly checking out her own hair._ It was still growing back from the _gum_ incident, but it was now at a comfortable mid-length bob. Harry thought it looked very nice on her, he felt that it framed her face beautifully. 

Pansy hated it and wished for nothing than to have her long locks back.

Ron was still on her shitlist. Harry doubted she would ever forgive him. 

She closed her compact with a loud click, and leaned forward, placing her head into her hands. Her nails were always done up, and it seemed baby blue was her choice this week. She opened her mouth, and Harry shook his head immediately.

“I know what you want and I refuse.” Harry quickly interjected. This caused Pansy to close her mouth and pout.

“Oh come on!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “My blog does so well with your photos, and you had so much fun last time!” She argued. 

The aforementioned blog was Pansy’s photography portfolio, that one that she used to show off her photos of… well photos of individuals in scandalous positions and wearing very suggestive items of apparel. Harry felt the heat rise to his cheeks. 

Pansy had recently switched up from doing boudoir photography to stretching it the extra mile and implementing fetish and kink photography into her blog as well. Her website had gained hundreds of followers in a couple of days, and she was hooked. Harry had been her model in a couple of shoots, allowing her to take photos of him wearing lingerie. She claimed that it was mostly so she could get comfortable with the shoots. 

The first bit was alright, and Pansy fulfilled her promise by not showing his face. 

The second photoshoot was a little more risque and had Harry wearing a body harness and a pair of black platform boots. The only thing covering his manhood was his own hands. Pansy wanted closeups of the leather straps against his skin and said that loads of people liked the idea of being stepped on. _Which meant a strange foot session, at peculiar angles._ Harry wasn’t one to judge and took the shoot with as much grace as he could muster.

He hadn’t realized how many people really paid attention to the blog until he checked up on it and read the comments under his photos. Needless to say, Harry’s ego was stroked, yet he was also slightly embarrassed to be in the spotlight. His photos were the first ones people came across on the website, and he had an entire folder for himself. Most of the models had been cited, given the recognition they were due, making Harry the only faceless/nameless person on the site. He was a mystery, and according to Pansy, people thrived off of that.

He finished cutting his peppers in half and gutting them before he placed them into the pan. He was having stuffed peppers tonight, his favorite. It was simple and delicious, plus it was very easy to bag and freeze, allowing him to save it for later to bring it to work.

“I’m busy.”

“It’s the weekend, Harry.” Pansy raised her well-manicured eyebrow. “Everyone knows you don’t do anything, but I digress, please enlighten me on your plans.” She commanded, holding her arms out expectantly. Harry bit his lip, he really wasn’t all that busy. He didn’t have plans except when he was going to meet up with Hermione and Ginny for tea for a bit the next day.

“I’m making dinner.” He answered lamely, motioning to the ground beef that he was now dropping into the pan to brown.

“Okay! So after we eat then?” She pushed, and Harry looked over to the brunette. She gave him a cheeky smile, and he rolled his eyes. He could never really say no to Pansy, not since- Well not since she got him out of his abusive family home. Posing for photos was the least he could do to repay for that kindness.

“Alright.” Harry sighed. Pansy started to clap excitedly. Harry turned from his pan and pointed at her, narrowing his eyes. “But I’m not doing nude.” 

“But you have such a pretty-”

“Pansy _please_.” He groaned as Pansy tilted her head back and laughed obnoxiously, snorting through her nose. Harry was glad that she was comfortable enough to be herself around him. She always got a lot of shit in high school, bullied to the point that she herself had become a bully.

“Okay, okay!” She agreed. “I actually just want you to wear your regular boxers today anyways.” She waved her hand dismissively, and Harry felt instant relief. The relief lasted only a moment because that was too easy. 

_Pansy was too extra to take photos of just him in boxers._

\-------------------------------

The two ate their stuffed peppers, and Harry had to pat himself on the back. They seemed to get more delicious every time he made them. After pouring them each a glass of rum, and bringing the entire bottle with them, the photoshoot commenced. They always shot in his room, as the two walls both had windows and offered amazing natural light. It was truly one of the best things about his apartment. 

His bedding was a simple white sheet and black duvet, making it a neutral place color-wise.

As Pansy had stated, he was asked to just wear a regular pair of boxers. He chose his dark green cotton ones, a pair that Pansy had gotten him because she said it made his eyes pop. _Not that anyone else would actually see it in real life._ While moving towards the bed, Pansy pulled out her ring light along with her camera, and a long bundle of rope.

“Oh my _god_.”

“Oh come on! Be a little more adventurous, Harry. It's _just_ rope bondage.”

“You’re seriously going to tie me up?”

“No, Harry. I brought this rope all the way here just to not use it.” She retorted, holding the rope in one hand while she held her hip with the other. His response was sticking his tongue out at her like a child, Pansy retaliated by rolling her eyes. “Alright, sit on the bed facing the wall. I need both your arms behind you.” Harry did as he was told. “Because we are only doing this for the photos it won’t really be too restrictive.” 

“Are you sure you know what you are doing?” He questioned anxiously, staring at the blank wall in front of him. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Pansy, no, he simply became a nervous nelly when experiencing something new. It was normal.

“Of course. This is perfectly safe.” She comforted him and placed her equipment down on the bed. “I actually went and took a few classes, because it's important to do it right. I even have the softest rope I could find.” She bragged and ran the edge of it against his bare skin on the back of his arm. It sent goosebumps across his entire body. Harry was sensitive.

“Alright, alright!” He shivered, shaking his head and trying to focus. Pansy breathed through her nose, Harry could tell she was trying not to laugh.

Not that it mattered, because things always got silly during shoots. The rum didn’t help.

\-------------------------------

“Harry, stop giggling!”

“I can’t help it!” He couldn’t, _really._

Pansy sat on the floor, aiming her lens towards his backside. The camera wasn’t steady however because Pansy herself was laughing. Her nose was scrunched up, and she was shaking her head. The 24-year-old was doing a terrible job to suppress her own mirth.

Harry had offhandedly stated that the ropes around his thigh area made him look like a holiday roast. This sparked the start of the giggles. The type of laughing that just won’t go away, and just when you think you have it under control, the other person cracks up again and starts it all over. 

Each time Harry started to laugh, the ropes would pull taut over his chest area as he inhaled. This in turn slightly tightened the ropes around his arms, the ones that kept him bound.

The camera flashed, and Harry dipped his head.

“Don’t! Not while I’m laughing!” He tried to plead, but he couldn't help smiling. As he turned his head to look over his shoulder at Pansy, the flash went off again.

“You have a beautiful smile Harry-kins!” 

“You’re a cunt.” He stated before leaning forward and flopping onto his stomach, hiding his face into the blanket.

“Wait!” Pansy shouted while she tried to stand up. She stumbled over to the bed, glaring at Harry when he sniggered. “Look at this one.” She tried, and Harry didn’t budge. “I’m serious, Harry! This shot is amazing, you have to look at it.”

“I swear to Baby Jesus Pansy, if this is another shot that you took of up my nose, I’m leaving.” Even if it was _his_ apartment.

“That was one time, don’t be sore.” She waved her hand dismissively, and Harry turned his head so he could see. Pansy angled the camera so Harry could see the photo right-side up. “Look at the way the light hits your body.”

Harry usually didn't like to see the photos of himself, but he had to agree with Pansy, this shot was something.

She had taken it just as he turned, capturing him with his mouth parted as he began to speak. The lights caused the background to seem impossibly dark, and the way the shadows played on his skin made him look ethereal. 

_It was just the lighting though, Harry wasn’t all that special_.

“I wish you’d let me post this one,” Pansy grumbled. Harry grimaced and used his head to help push himself into a sitting position.

“Just crop out my face.”

“That’s the best part!” She screeched, and Harry gave her a doubtful look. “It’s so genuine, so you. Not to mention how _sexy_ you are.” She wiggled her eyebrows, and Harry almost choked on his spit.

“Sod off.” He responded, giving her the dirtiest look he could muster. It lasted less than five seconds however because he couldn’t help but laugh when Pansy continued to wiggle her eyebrows suggestively.

“Okay mister ‘I’m extremely hot and don't want to admit it because of my past trauma’.” Before Harry could call her out on her low-blow, she stood with intention in her eyes. “Let’s take some photos in juicier positions.”

Harry’s groans were ignored.

The rest of the ‘photoshoot’ went like this, and by the end of it, Harry felt sore. From posing, and most likely from his arms being held back.

“We did it!” Pansy cheered, throwing her hands up to celebrate. Harry never wanted to move his arms ever again. “Let me use your computer yeah?” Pansy turned to Harry as he was pulling his jumper over his head. He ran a hand through his hair, scratching through the unruly locks.

“Sure, I guess.” He shrugged. “It's over by my desk, just on the small table.” 

“Thanks, mine's dead and I forgot the power cord at home.” The young woman explained as she took out the cord for her camera. Harry followed her to the next room and watched in horror as she connected her device to his as it powered up.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Pansy countered, causing Harry to gesture to his computer.

“Why are you uploading the photos onto _my_ laptop?”

“Because mine is dead. I just told you.” Harry wanted to rip his eyes out.

“I don’t want them on my laptop.” He started, realizing that he was sounding like a child, but being too tipsy to care. He was crossing his arms when Pansy held up a finger at him.

“Calm your tits,” Pansy commanded, turning to Harry. “I’m just gonna upload them, and then email them to myself. You can delete them all after, I can even help if you’re that pissy.” She stated. Harry’s cheeks flushed, and he shook his head.

“No, it’s fine.” 

“That’s what I thought!” Pansy exclaimed dramatically, wagging her finger at him. He only responded by scoffing at her. She ignored him in favor of turning back to the computer and starting the upload. “What hashtags should I use on Twitter when I do the teaser post?”

“I have no idea Pans, I don’t deal with all that, remember?”

“Oh right,” Pansy nodded distractedly. “There are probably some great ones for rope bondage. It's an art form you know.” Harry would have thought she was joking if she wasn’t so serious about social networking. It was almost unhealthy, the way she dedicated herself daily. Harry found it exhausting just watching her while she was on her phone. Constantly sending emails, replies, and thinking about what was next.

Harry was lucky, his line of work as a simple customer service representative caused him no major stress. He knew what was to come and what was expected of him. His job was pretty much-answering calls and dealing with problems that arose in the field. Mostly pharmaceutical disputes when it came down to insurance coverage and the odd complaint. He had a literal book that he kept with him that listed what to do when specific things happened. _Need to know what to do when an insurance agency declared overcharge?_ Page 43. Easy. Done.

He could do with a raise, or perhaps a promotion. It would help him with his active quest on moving into an apartment where the landlords actually cared and answered their maintenance calls. He wanted a nicer place, somewhere he could be proud of. _Not a dingy one-bedroom, with communal laundry space_. 

“There!” Harry’s best friend declared, before hitting one last key on the keyboard. Harry was just close enough to see that she had hit send on the email. “Easy peasy, creamy cheesy.” She turned in the chair to smile at Harry.

“That is absolutely _not_ how that saying goes. Gross.” He chuckled, looking at Pansy in amused disgust.

“It rhymes doesn’t it?” She drawled as she shrugged her shoulders, turning back to the laptop to close its screen. She unplugged her own cord and sighed dejectedly. “Tonight was so fun, wasn’t it?” She once again turned to Harry, who narrowed his eyes at her suddenly sad tone.

“What do you want now?” He asked carefully. 

“I’m so glad you asked!” She yelled enthusiastically before clapping her hands and standing. “Where's the closest bottle shop? Let’s get absolutely pissed.” Harry tilted his head and stared up to the ceiling as if looking for something. It _was_ Friday night, wasn’t it? He didn’t have work until Monday, and tomorrow he didn’t have to wake early. Tea with Gin and Hermione was going to be in the afternoon, which meant that he’d had time to sleep-out any alcohol in his system. _Getting pissed it was then_.

He signed and uncrossed his arms.

“Why not?” He breathed out.

_What could possibly go wrong?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LISTEN. I know I have many fics on the go, but this one won't leave me alone. I originally was just going to write it all as one big chapter, but I'm too excited and need to put this out into the world.


	2. Moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it says this will be ten chapters, but I honestly have no idea how long it will be.
> 
> Enjoy!

Had Harry known that he and Pansy would be up drinking until 5 AM, he would have kicked his best friend out of his apartment the moment she was done using his laptop.

He never wanted to see another bottle of tequila for the rest of his pathetic miserable life.

In fact, _Harry would never drink again._ His head throbbed, and his eyes didn’t seem to want to open fully. 

This must be death. It had finally come for him. It was his time.

“Stop being so dramatic, Harry,” Pansy grumbled beside him. The two of them were laying in his bed on top of the blankets. Neither could figure out how to untuck them from the mattress when they had decided to lay down, and quickly had given up after Pansy fell sideways into his small table.

“I didn’t realize I had said that out loud,” Harry admitted before shifting to get comfortable. Even the sound of his clothes rubbing on the fabric of his bedding irritated him, how was he supposed to endure both Hermione’s and Gin’s voices in a couple of hours? They got so chatty, it was going to be torture and not the fun kind.

Harry whined loudly, groaning into the pillow.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungover, Pans.” He grumbled. Pansy sighed and moved her sluggish body to face Harry. She rolled over slightly so that they were making contact. Pansy was warm against his side, and Harry basked in the feeling.

“You were soused to the eyeballs.” She agreed, sighing again. The young woman threw her arm over Harry’s side and blindly ran her hand up and into his shirt. Her long nails started tracing random shapes into his skin. Harry thought it felt nice.

It was nice until she sprang from her position to straddle him.

He jerked his body upwards to throw her off, but she was ready for it, and before he could protest both of her hands were under his shirt and her fingers began kneading at his ribcage.

“Pansy!” He squealed, but she wasn’t listening. She ruthlessly tickled him, expertly trapping his arms underneath her knees. Harry couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of his chest. He wiggled and tried to fight but he was losing this battle. Pansy cackled loudly, stopping so Harry could breathe.

“Say ‘Uncle’!” She commanded, giving Harry a small reprieve. Between labored breaths, Harry forced his tongue to work.

“U-uncle! Uncle, alright! You win-”

“You’re no fun. You give up way too easily.” Pansy complained loudly, sounding disappointed. She leaned forward and used Harry as a surface to push herself off of him. Harry let out a muffled ‘oof’ as she stood, and rolled over to glare at her.

“You know I hate being tickled,” He started, watching as Pansy stood up straight to stretch. Her complexion was a bit paler than normal, much paler than last night when she was all red in the face from the alcohol.

“Well, you needed to get up anyway,” She waved her hand dismissively. “And now you’re halfway there.” Pansy bent down to grab her discarded phone before turning to face Harry again. “I need to get back home to edit those photos, and you’ll never get up unless I intervene.” Harry pouted but secretly agreed. His bed was comforting, and he didn’t want to face the world right now.

“I have a while…” He tried but Pansy shot him a warning look.

“I’m going to get my shit together, and I’ll put on the coffee. If you aren’t in the shower by the time I leave, I’m going to cut holes into all of your socks and shave off your eyebrows while you sleep.”

“Jesus- Okay!” Harry felt his eyebrows rise so high he was sure they touched his hairline. Strong women were a force to be reckoned with, and Harry knew Pansy always delivered on her threats. He wasn’t going to risk his eyebrows and socks. With another heated glare, Harry sat up fully and held his hands up. “I’m going, I’m going!”

“Mhm.” Was all she said before she strutted out of his bedroom. 

Harry jumped up from his bed, ignoring the way the room tilted and attempted to reach for his dresser. He must have misjudged the distance and ended up punching the wooden chest with his entire weight. His body hit the piece of furniture so hard that it would have toppled over had it not been up against the wall.

“You _wanker_!” Harry shouted in response to the pain that bloomed across his right hand. He tried to shake away the pain, but he may have sprained his hand. There was a very visible imprint across his flesh where his knuckles met a raised edge from the handle. Luckily it wasn’t bleeding.

Not wanting to waste time, Harry decided to simply ignore the happening and steadied himself. He grabbed the clothes he needed from their respective drawers and power-walked to his bathroom ignoring Pansy’s curious gaze from the kitchen.

Something told him that this day wasn’t going to go well.

* * *

Harry Potter should have known that once the day starts rough, _it’ll end rough._

He had left the house at exactly noon, giving himself ample time to get to Ginny’s place before their agreed time. Life had other plans, however. The moment Harry stepped outside, the nice weather decided to fuck off, and Harry had to race back into his apartment to grab an umbrella. He missed his bus because of this.

The next one wouldn’t come for another fifteen minutes or so, and Harry found himself waiting inside the public shelter at the stop for closer to twenty. When the bus finally showed up it had come too fast and sopped too abruptly, sending the small puddles that had gathered beside the kerb directly towards Harry. His trousers from the knee down were drenched, and when stepping onto the bus, the driver didn’t even apologize.

Now wet, late, and royally peeved, Harry sat in the back of the bus seething.

The bus had its heat roaring, which wouldn’t have been a problem had the entire vehicle not felt as if it were inside the belly of a dragon. Harry could feel the sweat accumulating on the back of his neck already.

By the time the bus got to his stop, Harry was damp down his back. His clothes were sticking to him all over and he was feeling claustrophobic. It hadn’t helped that his head was killing him and his hand was still sore and throbbing.

He stepped off the bus and began walking down the street. He had crossed the road and only just safely started on the sidewalk when a man jumped out at Harry. He was dirty and his eyes bulged from their sockets. The man was leaning slightly to the side and was having a rough time keeping balance. He was clearly on something, and Harry didn’t want to deal with him right now.

“Excuse me,” Harry tried at first, the polite way seemed the safest. The man had made no indication that he had heard Harry and started to wave his hands around.

“Beware the snakes!” He rasped out, sounding like a man who smoked six packs a day. Harry frowned and tried to side-step to try and go around the man. This time the man moved to block him.

“Excuse me?” Harry tried again, this time he couldn’t keep his voice from sounding off.

“They’ll slither right into you,” The homeless man warned, he stuck his finger out, and aimed it at Harry’s chest. Fortunately, he didn’t actually touch Harry.

“Err, yeah. Okay. I’ll stay away from the snakes,” Harry promised, side-stepping again. The man didn’t stop him this time, and Harry cleared his throat before nodding awkwardly. He started back down the sidewalk, intent on getting to Gin’s place before he was murdered. He kept glancing down every so often to check for snakes, feeling unsettled by the wayward man's prophetic words. He rather liked snakes as a kid, but he wasn’t feeling lucky enough to risk it. _There shouldn’t be any snakes around anyways._

His phone vibrated in his pocket, but he was almost at the apartment building and ignored it. Hermione and Gin were probably wondering where he was.

He came to a stop at their glass doors and pushed the cold metal button with his thumb. The buzzer went off and he received the second buzzer of the door unlocking for him. 

Harry ushered himself into the building and shook off his umbrella before closing it. He made his way to the elevator but hesitated before stepping into the machine. With his bad mojo, Harry decided against taking the death trap and instead took the stairs. Call it superstition, but Harry was not about to die in a falling elevator thank you very much.

The girls lived on the fourth floor, so there weren’t too many flights to go up. He made it to their front door and rapped quickly. Within the apartment, he could hear a soft voice call out.

“One second!” There was a loud couple of thumping noises, and then the sound of metal sliding against metal.

The door swung open to reveal Ginny Weasley in a bright pink jumper and her thick ginger hair up in a high ponytail. Her bright eyes smiled at him, and Harry felt much better suddenly.

“Harry!” She greeted, closing the distance and throwing her arms around his neck. Harry mumbled a quiet ‘hello’ and returned the hug. He held on for a little longer than necessary and could feel Ginny hesitate. He finally pulled away, and the redhead sent him a concerned look.

They had dated for a bit while in school, but Harry had quickly realized that he liked men. Things had been awkward between them for a while, but once the dust had settled they had gotten back into an easy rhythm. Ginny had confronted Harry and wanted them to go back to being good friends. He had agreed and soon after they could talk without the air being too thick. They now acted closer to siblings, Ginny treated him like a younger brother even though she was the younger of the two.

“What’s up, Harry? You good?” She whispered. Harry knew that whatever man Ginny married, he’d be the luckiest to get such a lovely, caring person by his side.

“This day has been pretty shite, to be honest,” Harry grumbled. He scratched the back of his head and grimaced. “How about I tell you all about it over tea?” He offered. Ginny scrunched her nose and took in Harry’s wet trousers.

“Let’s get you into some dry clothes first, yeah?” Harry smiled.

“Yeah, that sounds alright.”

* * *

Tea had been pretty much Ginny and Hermione taking the piss out of Harry and his shitty day. It was all in good fun, however, and Harry felt much better laughing about it than dwelling on the negative aspect. They talked about trivial matters, and ended up on the topic they found themselves conversing about most.

“I swear he’s going to ask you soon!” Ginny cooed. She placed a pale hand onto Hermiones and they shared a hopeful look. Under the table, Ginny used her foot to kick Harry with her heel. He sputtered and almost dropped his teacup.

“Oh- yeah. He’s for sure going to propose soon, Mione.” He agreed, nodding fervently. Hermione shot him a grateful smile and she took a sip of her tea.

“I know it seems childish,” she gushed. “I could always ask him myself, but there’s something so romantic about getting proposed to!” She looked dreamily to her right. “I used to roll my eyes at women who waited on bated breath for a man to make the move, but I get it now.” She finished. Both she and Ginny sighed forlornly.

Harry sat awkwardly, drumming his fingers along his teacup. 

Hermione and Ron hadn’t gotten together officially until after graduation, and even then it was rocky. They had been friends since elementary, and Ron admitted to Harry that he hadn’t looked at Hermione in a romantic sense until her relationship with her now ex-boyfriend. He realized he had been jealous, and made a move once the two split apart. Things in their small knit group became strange, and Harry was trapped between it all. At some point, Hermione actually agreed to go on a date with Ron. 

After that they kept dating, apparently having a successful first one.

Now almost five years later and Ron had yet to make the next move, and it had sent Hermione into a fit of doubt. They didn’t live together, weren’t engaged, and Ron couldn’t even bring up the topic of kids. It was frustrating because Harry knew that both Ron and Hermione had fallen madly in love with each other, but they still hadn’t found the right way to express their wants and needs. 

Between the two of them, Harry would say they shared a single brain cell when it came to their own relationship. Which was saying a lot with how smart Hermione could be.

Harry’s phone buzzed on the table, and he took the chance to get away from the conversation immediately. He picked up his device and unlocked it. He had two unread text messages. Opening them up, he could see both were from Pansy.

Harry felt guilt suddenly, he had assumed the text from earlier was from one of the girls and not Pansy, thus leaving her hanging.

The first text was simply ‘ _Hey, are you busy right now?_ ’. Harry didn’t feel quite as bad after reading it, because technically not answering should have answered her question. The second was longer and read, ‘ _When you get a chance, can you resend those photos? They never showed up in my inbox so I might have put in my email wrong. You should be able to do it on your phone, just take the email and forward it to my work email. Call me if you need help xoxo_ ’.

It seemed easy enough, so Harry switched to the app where his emails lived. He fiddled with it for about a minute before he groaned in frustration.

“What’s up, Harry?” Ginny leaned over, glancing at his phone. “You’re shite at technology, do you need help?” She asked sweetly, but her eyes shone in a way that he knew she was secretly mocking him in her mind. Harry grumbled before putting his phone down onto the table between the two of them.

“I just need to resend an email to the correct email, but I can’t find the original.”

“Did you check in your ‘Sent’ folder?” The redhead inquired, giving Harry a raised eyebrow. Harry felt his cheeks flush.

“I don’t know where that is on my phone,” Hermione shot him a look of concern and Ginny looked like she wanted to call Harry an old man, she was clearly holding back a laugh. “I usually use a computer!” He tried to defend himself but Ginny shook her head at him. “It’s different, alright?” He was sent a look of disbelief from both his friends and he glared at the two of them, crossing his arms petulantly. “Well, it is.” He grumbled again.

“I’ll show you, don’t be a baby.” Ginny teased. She motioned for him to watch, and he grudgingly sat forward and watched as her small hands worked the screen. She hit an arrow at the top of the screen which took you to a long list of every available inbox, then she scrolled down and pointed to one of them. “See, it says ‘sent’,” She clicked on it and the screen shifted back over. This time however it showed all the emails he had sent, and not the ones still in his inbox that he hadn’t gone through yet.

“Brilliant,” Harry commented dryly. Ginny merely scoffed.

“Unlike you, Potty-head.” She bit back as she bumped her shoulder into his. “Do you need me to help with the rest?” She asked, she was already reaching for the phone again when Harry remembered just what was in the email.

“No!” He blurted bluntly, startling both the women at the table. Ginny drew her hand back hastily, she looked like she had just been told that her jumper was on the cat. “Sorry, I just mean- No thank-you.” He tried lamely, but it only made Ginny go from startled to suspicious in a nanosecond.

“Is it something dodgy?” She asked, her fingers looking like they were itching to grab his phone. Harry beat her to it.

“What?” He asked incredulously as he reached out to swipe his phone off the tabletop. “No, it’s just a work thing.” He lied. It sounded alright in his ears, but apparently, neither of his friends believed it.

“Please tell me you aren’t sending money to a Nigerian Prince, Harry. Those are all scams.” Hermione stated knowingly. Harry almost laughed right in her face.

“I’m not that inept, Mione!”

“I just want to make sure!” She added quickly. “No matter how fit, you should never send money over the internet to people you don't know!”

“I’m not twelve,” Harry explained, shaking his head.

“You act like it sometimes.” Ginny chimed in, she once again bumped shoulders with Harry. He rolled his eyes before standing.

“Oh- _Sod off._ I need to send this email, for work.” He stressed the last part. “Because I am an adult and I don't skive off from my responsibilities.” He added before walking away from the table, he decided to sit in the big armchair in their living room. He could hear Ginny continue to talk about him, and he tried to tune it out.

Once sitting down, Harry took his phone and tried to think logically about how to forward an email. On the computer, there was a big button at the top of the screen, but all the functions on phones were hidden behind all different sorts of drop-down menus.  
He clicked on the top email, the subject line was simply ‘PSWH4’ and Harry had no idea as to what that stood for. Once on the screen, Harry tried to click a random arrow at the top, but all that did was shuffle between all the different emails in this current inbox. Along the bottom of the screen, there was another arrow, and Harry found what he was looking for. A big button popped up among others that read ‘forward’ and he clicked it. 

A new subject line popped up, and the space for the recipients’ email was blank now.

Harry already forgot what the other email had for its subject line, so he cheekily typed ‘Pansy Parkinsons Best Model (you’re welcome)’. He clicked on the next line and a dropdown menu for contacts showed up. He put in the letter ‘R’ intent on pulling up Pansy’s work email which happened to be named after her blog. RidiculouslyRadiant@Blogpost.com.

Harry had just typed in ‘RI’ to shorten the list when Ginny jumped out from behind the armchair.

“Boo!” She yelled, grabbing hold of the chair and tilting it backward. The jumpscare and immediate feeling of falling to his death caused Harry to quite literally jump from his seat, dropping his phone.

“Jesus Christ on a cracker- Ginny!” He cried, holding his hand over his heart. “I just saw my whole life flash before my eyes- I almost died!” He croaked. He tried to glare at her, but he could barely muster up the energy. His heart pounded so heavily in his ears that he almost didn’t hear Ginny’s response.

“Ha! I got you good!” She bragged. The redhead danced on the spot grabbing the chair and tilting it back and forth. “I’m the best, uh-huh, I got you, uh-huh!”

“That’s not funny.” He muttered before picking up his phone, his hands were still shaking. “I don’t understand why you’re so proud of yourself, I get scared easily. You’re not _that_ great.” He turned the phone over so he could continue with his quest. With Ginny still behind him, now literally leaning over the back of the chair trying to see what he was doing, he quickly pressed the first email that had popped up on the list and hit send.

Harry watched the loading icon spin and sat back into the armchair after shooing Ginny away. The email was finally sent and Harry was about to turn off his phone when he was forced to do a double-take.

“Holy fucking shit.” He whispered, his green eyes glued to the glowing screen in his hands. Right underneath his cheeky subject line sat an email that didn’t belong to Pansy Parkinson.

He had just sent the _entire collection_ of photos from that photoshoot to _his boss_.

**Tom fucking Riddle.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BEEN DONE.  
> THE DEED WAS DONE.
> 
> We get some Tom next chapter.
> 
> [1] The Say Uncle game is something that is most common in North America (where I’m from) and it's just when you do something to someone and they have to say ‘Uncle’ to end it, which is the same as saying “I give up” essentially. Admitting defeat. Tickling someone until they can’t stand it is one of the ways I experienced it. My older brother would literally sit on us and tickle us until we cried, sometimes saying Uncle wouldn’t stop him either.  
> Good times, good times…
> 
> [2] Harry typed in the letters RI, do you know what comes before Ridiculously? Obviously Riddle.  
> MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA


End file.
